A Change of Scenery
by theglamourfades
Summary: "A spot of tea might do, or luncheon at a small hotel. Something to affirm and celebrate their status to one another, to make the most of their time with each other away from their place of work." Because Anna and Mr Bates had a fair few dates…
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I've wanted to write an 'A/B go on a date' fic for a long time now, and I have KristenAPA to thank for persuading me to finally get round to it for April a.k.a the All Important Anna x Bates month ;) Hopefully it's been worth the wait...!**

 **As always, I should point out that I don't own Downton Abbey, Anna Smith/Bates, John Bates or any other of the characters.**

* * *

 _A Change of Scenery_

Chapter 1

John Bates knew the realities of war all too well. He needed only to close his eyes and wait for a moment or two before everything flooded back to the forefront of his mind. The sounds of gunfire and screams of agony, some poor soul's last words reverberating as an endless echo and waking him in the dead of night. The sights too horrific for proper explanation, the smells – blood upon dust upon yet more blood, layer after layer, never to be washed away no matter how much rain would eventually come.

The promises of glory, the thrill of battle, the chance for a greater purpose – _and to escape the almighty mess he had gotten himself into_ – all were evaporated when you came within breathing distance of the supposed enemy. Seeing nothing but the whites of their eyes, full of the same fear and confusion and stark awareness of the utter futility of it all. In the short space of silence, sharing in a desperate plea with lips barely moving to speak it, acknowledging their fast-fading humanity before the next set of rounds studded the air.

The memories remained so vivid that he did not need the accompaniment of conversation on the very same topic, but there was little else to talk about - not while this war dragged on without apparent end. With most of the young men they knew gone away the house seemed vacant, missing those that it had surrendered.

"I can't stop thinking about it. About them all."

Daisy's eyes darted around the room, taking on the appearance of an animal caught in a trap whose delayed reaction had begun to kick in. She caught John's gaze for a fraction too long and he detected the guilt laying there, the shame that she wasn't speaking solely about William.

She wiped her hands vigorously on her apron, turning her head back to her work. Mrs Patmore had excused herself as the conversation had started to turn, explaining that she needed to carry out an urgent check of the larder.

"It must be so horrible," the girl murmured, perhaps an obvious thought but one which was nothing less than heartfelt.

Thomas's harsh laugh tore a strip through the collective solemn atmosphere.

"It's alright for you. You can step outside and take a break from your thoughts anytime you like. When you're out there, up to your neck in mud and God knows what else, there's no getting away from it. It's all you have." He paused to light another cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling the smoke in an unbroken line. A small smirk curved his lips. "Death is waiting round every corner."

Poor Daisy's face went white, her colour draining past her feet. "Don't say that," she managed to stammer, looking accusingly at the footman who simply shrugged, leaning forward in his seat to stamp out the ash from the cigarette already half smoked.

John had the urge to smoke, an urge that appealed to him more frequently of late. The very distinctive aroma disgusted Anna – she had commented upon it more than once, and as he glanced down the table he could see her nose wrinkling, the sign of her silent protest as she continued to work on the silk blouse in front of her. If Thomas continued on in such a fashion then she would probably need to douse the garment to get rid of the lingering stench. His annoyance of the footman intensified considering the extra work he would provide her with when she was already so bombarded.

"Well, it's the truth," Thomas went on, his words clouded with off-white smoke. "You only know a bloke for what feels like five minutes and then he's gone. If you think the Germans have any pity or a thought to go easy and spare a few hundred lives for a day, then you'd be very much mistaken. My only regret is that I didn't last longer to show them who's boss."

He raised his hand, cradling it over the cloak of the flesh-coloured glove. Oh, he still relished playing the part of the heroic soldier, quest thwarted by the unfortunate wound gained in battle. Even though Anna had told him that Thomas was back working at the house prior to his return, John hadn't been at all surprised by the turn of events. He displayed his grace by not making the accusation aloud, but he had the strong feeling that the end of Thomas's military career had very little to do with fate's cruel hand falling by utter chance rather than being purposely twisted.

"You were very brave, Thomas," Miss O'Brien, previously happy to remain a listener, felt the need to speak up in her comrade's defence. She even went so far as to cast a proud glance in his direction. "I'd say rather too brave, to bear that injury without any complaint."

Her eyes quickly went across the table, failing to conceal any sense of sneering and contempt. John let it slide off his back, being all too used to the unsubtle digs at his character by the pair of them by now and not expecting them to let up any time soon, even while greater concerns were beleaguering the world.

"Thank you, Miss O'Brien," Thomas accepted the compliment smoothly. "But I think we ought to give Mr Bates some credit here too."

His stomach churned with sourness; he was sure that the whole of the hall – except for Anna, who continued diligently working – had turned to glare at him.

Thomas certainly was, dark irises glowing a strange shade while his mouth had curled into what appeared to being an empathetic and understanding smile.

"Really?" John uttered, half-pretending that he had misheard.

"We both know what it's like, to want to do more but having the bad luck to be stopped, only by doing our best of course." He continued to grin, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette. "Blimey, I never thought I'd see the day where we'd have something in common, Mr Bates."

He decided the best plan of action was to remain quiet and civil, not rising to the bait that Thomas so clearly wanted to hook him with.

"Neither did I, Thomas."

An uneasy feeling remained with him whilst the comparison stayed, permeating the silence that he had brought on by not choosing to say anything more. Thomas had been quite the pleasant company in his presence recently, in so much that he hadn't gone out of his way to be obnoxious. The thought had briefly crossed his mind that perhaps experiencing war had changed the younger man but that was gone before he had the opportunity to seriously contemplate it. He and Miss O'Brien still had their secretive chats, and John had stumbled upon them more than once whispering and swiftly ceasing, going back to the work they had neglected when they became aware of his presence.

He looked up from his book, past hoping that his Lordship might take the unusual step of ringing for something in the middle of the afternoon, to see Daisy with her head bowed, her eyes holding the same sorrows as he had glimpsed some minutes previous.

"I say a prayer every night," she admitted candidly, her hands clasped in front of her even now, though the end of the day was some hours away yet.

"We all do."

He felt guilt himself that his heart should leap at the sound of Anna's voice – so sweet and soft, with a weight beneath the intonation, which he hoped had only to do with the sympathy she felt for Daisy's plight and the kindness she possessed for every living creature rather than any hardship and similar heartbreak she had herself experienced.

Then he thought of the agony he had put her through by walking away from her with his feeble excuses, turning those beautiful sounds that came from her mouth into anguished sobs that followed him on the journey he had had no wish to make. They had lived in his mind, became the thing that woke him in turmoil from nightmares of never seeing her again for as long as whoever was responsible granted him the continued grace to live. Worse were the nightmares in which he returned and she told him she wanted nothing more to do with him, that her love was too precious to be wasted on a despicable excuse for a man that he was.

Her eyes looked up for the first time since she had set to work on the blouse, and as they met with his he knew that all of his hopes and fears, dreams and nightmares were lost, unknown to him any longer. Everything he had was surrendered to her, and he felt there was no greater purpose he could give himself over to.

"A fat lot of good praying will do." Miss O'Brien had saw fit to speak again, perhaps because she thought she had some right in being a higher rank than both Anna and Daisy, more than a singular note of mocking in her tone.

He had already had his fill, and if that sour puss went any further he wasn't sure he would be responsible for his actions. He rose from his seat without fuss, throwing a small glance and smile towards Anna as he went past, heading for the door into the courtyard.

It was a relief to get fresh air into his lungs; the smell of cigarette smoke that once had been commonplace, sometimes even appealing, had become just as repellent to him. He had felt increasingly stifled as the afternoon had worn on, starting to resent the hall – he had got so used to his own company again – and in turn feeling wretched for doing so, when he had long dreamt of returning to the Abbey; a dream that he had believed was all but impossible given all the shame he had caused, apparently so easily forgiven.

And yet still, with the peaceful and distant calls of birds for his current company, Thomas's claims continued to echo. He hated that he could so much as be aligned with that coward, for there was little doubt in his mind that was what Thomas was; it was regular enough amongst the battalions in Africa, those who bragged the loudest about their victories were the very same ones who would scarper sharply away, cowering at the first fledgling of an unexpected attack. The longer he brooded upon the thought, the more he considered – with deep regret – that there was more truth in the utterance than he cared to admit. After all, when was the last time he had been truly fearless? It seemed almost impossible for him to recall.

The worry was always in the back of his mind; he was as good as a prisoner, on the run from his jailer. The regret was heavy in his chest; Anna deserved so much more than what he could offer. She was the one full of faith and hope, and though he didn't feel less of a man for admitting that she was his source of strength – it made him prouder and more whole than he had been in years to confess that truth to himself – he wished that he could be better, for her.

There was nothing to be done about the past and so far he couldn't promise a great deal of the future. It didn't seem a right way to live, especially not when he had resolved to do more following his return. Perhaps he just had to face up to the fact that this was how he was. Anna often talked about how she wouldn't change anything about him, and he trusted her judgment far more than his own.

He had expected her to follow him out after a while, and heard her gentle footsteps skim the cobbles, but a jolt of surprise ran through him when he felt her hand upon his arm.

"Penny for them?"

Her eyes were bright, the smile settled in the shining apples of her cheeks, and despite himself he couldn't help from smiling too.

"Oh, they're not worth half that much."

She tipped her head to the side, the late-afternoon light catching her hair strikingly.

"Now, I know that's not true."

He waited for a _Mr Bates_ to round off her sentence but it didn't come and he felt a little bereft, even though he had told her she needn't be so formal with him. They were engaged, after all. Aside from the odd barely distinguishable strand, her bun remained intact from the morning, and he found himself fascinated by thoughts of the architecture. Occasionally he'd catch her rubbing her hand at the back of her head when nobody else was looking and he imagined that the pins must be painful. Too often he thought of her shaking her hair loose, mesmerised by imagined visions of golden waves cascading far down past her shoulders as she wore her nightgown absent of a shawl.

 _Hold yourself together, Bates_. He thought back to his military training, the source of so much of his resolve.

Anna expelled a small sigh, looking up to the sky arching over the both of them. "I'm glad of the lighter nights being here again. Things feel so much more hopeful, somehow."

He had an idea of what she meant, not feeling that it was only wishful thinking on both their behalf.

"And the weather's been so lovely too."

A sweet smell lingered in the air, the familiar scent of rain after an otherwise fine day. So far the month hadn't brought too many of its lauded showers, and he took it as a good omen as well as a somewhat selfish blessing. She happened to look beautiful at any time of year but her fair complexion meant that the sunshine suited her especially well.

"Hopefully it will stay just as fine for our next half day."

She smiled at his remark; they had joked about them sharing the same time off since discovering it to be the case, wondering idly if it had been something other than coincidence.

There was something in her smile that gave him the confidence to go through with his thoughts, as well as his desire to go back to the resolution he had made since returning. He took a deep breath before he filled the small space between them with the notion of what he had toyed with for so long.

"I was thinking that, perhaps, we might go somewhere." His head started to whirl, his mouth suddenly quite dry. "Thirsk or Ripon. A change of scenery."

She stayed staring at him for a while, fighting the urge to laugh. Eventually she broke the silence that had descended, just as he was starting to feel uncomfortable.

"Are you suggesting that we go on a date, Mr Bates?"

He noticed the teasing in her tone, it sparked a warmth within the centre of his chest. He would have responded with _if that's what you want to call it_ , but the phrase made him wince slightly, given the last time he had used it. That was something else he could make up for, he considered, though he had a rather long list.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, losing none of their glow when he reasoned that they would need to do something during the daytime; a trip to the pictures would have been preferable, but it wasn't possible given their respective duties. A spot of tea might do, or luncheon at a small hotel. Something to affirm and celebrate their status to one another, to make the most of their time with each other away from their place of work.

It was the very least that she deserved, and he only wished that he could do more – do what they both so desperately longed for. But for now it was the best that was available. In time she would have everything of him; she already owned his heart and he eagerly awaited the day when she would have ownership of his name too.

"What do you think?" he found himself saying, nerves jangling and heart hammering in his chest.

She looked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, her fingers gliding across the arm of his jacket.

"I suppose it's fine," she answered, attempting to keep her lips straight. "Though I'd have to hope I didn't get into trouble with Mrs Hughes."

John broke into a grin, relieved that it wasn't anything else that made her hesitate.

"Well, I could go and ask her permission now if you like. I wouldn't want her to think anyone was taking liberties with her charges."

Her hand moved swiftly to his chest and he caught his breath as she pushed at him lightly.

"I don't expect she'll mind really. If anybody can be trusted to be the perfect gentleman, Mr Bates, then it's you." He watched her eyes lighting as she curved herself closer to him, catching just one more moment. "On the other hand, you might need to keep an eye out for me."

A pair of curious birds were the only witnesses as they shared a kiss in the cover of the sun's falling shade.

* * *

He woke that day feeling more nervous than he ever had before in his life, chest tight and a nagging burning sensation deep in the pit of his stomach. He was excited, too, and told his body and mind to be reasonable and allow him to enjoy what he had painstakingly planned. Something far worse would need to befall him before he would cancel. That option was unthinkable – Anna had had more than enough disappointment already. This was significant; aside from that one unexpected afternoon in Kirkbymoorside, entirely down to her and her wonderful courage, they had not done anything together, alone. Whatever nerves he had, he would battle them until they were overcome.

He fairly stumbled through the morning, making small mistakes but so many of them that his Lordship enquired whether he was quite well, a question that took on another bent when he noted the lack of colour in his valet's countenance. Even in the pleasant open air he seemed unable to stop himself from sweating profusely – _blasted collar was too tight_ – and almost refrained from offering his hand to Anna when the bus to Thirsk stopped to let them on board and alight. His sense of honour won out in the end, and it was lucky for him that she was wearing gloves.

Of course he still worried, though he did what he could to chase the thoughts away. Having Anna sit so close to him, her side almost pressed against his in the small space of the bus, helped him. It was all out of his hands. There had been no word as yet from Vera or her solicitor, but perhaps that was a good sign. He had never been able to second guess what she might do and an easy cooperation was the last thing on his mind, even now. As they passed into the main thoroughfare he had the terrible idea that she would be sitting there, waiting for them as they arrived at the hotel, the decree nisi shredded to pieces and scattering from her hands.

Thankfully the image did not materialise, but he was almost similarly shocked as they were ushered through into the dining area. The room was larger and much grander than he had imagined, ornate decorations adorning the walls and each of the tables. Looking about them there were a number of guests who were so fine in their appearance that they would not have looked out of place at one of the Granthams' many dinner parties, and there was a large crystal chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling. As it transpired the quaint property he had enquired into a week or so ago was connected to a bigger, more _exclusive_ hotel and the same restaurant served them both.

His face must have been crimson with embarrassment as he turned from the maitre-d to Anna, but before he could whisper any apologies to her she met his gaze with a wide smile, beaming from beneath the brim of her hat.

The maitre-d was so well turned out that he could have passed for another footman, more than matching up to Mr Carson's standards. He gave them both a polite but warm smile, looking up from the list in front of him.

"The reservation for Mr and Mrs...?" he asked with a well-rehearsed nature.

"Downton," John replied, rocking forward slightly from his heels. He felt Anna's eyes going up towards him, where seconds before she had been gazing round at the scene she found herself a part of, doing so with the utmost discretion as she was well-versed in.

She quieted her laugh to nearly no sound at all, only enough that he was aware of her obvious amusement, it twinkling in her irises.

"I panicked while I was on the telephone," he answered her gleeful expression. "It was the first thing that came to mind."

"Silly beggar," she whispered, briefly squeezing her still gloved hand in his before the maitre-d seated them at a table near one of the corners of the room beside a beautiful arrangement of flowers. For its size it was surprisingly intimate, as well as being light and airy and having the most wonderful mixture of scents, no doubt because of the array of cakes and confectionaries that were being served with pleasant smiles.

John passed a menu to Anna, feeling easier now that they were comfortable. He watched her with the same sense of wonder as he always felt thinking how out of everyone living in the world she had chosen to fall in love with him. Of course for him there had been no say in the matter; he had been lost and found from the very first day he had arrived at the Abbey, his hand slipping into hers and their tentative smiles meeting, though he could never have dared to imagine they would get to where they were now. After some perusing she said that she would just have a tea for now, and he ordered similarly. They had quite enough time yet and he intended to make the most of it, willing the seconds and minutes to pass as slowly as they were able without stilling completely.

She smiled all the while as they talked, and John was utterly captivated, more than happy to be the silent party whilst she delighted him with everything he could ever want to know. Eventually his eyes moved from her beautiful face down to her hands, resting one over the other upon the bright white tablecloth. The glint of the emerald jewel set upon the gold band caught his eye and he grinned, observing her turning bashful for the briefest of moments until all of that alluring confidence was back in its rightful place.

"I thought I had better come prepared," she explained, stroking the third finger of her left hand absent-mindedly and smiling with such hope in her eyes that it might have broke his heart if it were any other day.

It seemed somewhat presumptuous, and sorrow had struck him for a while pondering the matter once he was off the phone, reservation in place. The sweetest mistruth he could ever tell, to refer to Anna as his wife, even to a perfect stranger. He would preserve her reputation to the end and it took him by the most pleasant surprise that he hadn't given it second thought whilst he was conversing. The only thing she didn't possess at the moment was his name and the blessing of the law.

His heart skipped the longer he looked at the ring, appearing to fit her so well.

"That's my mother's engagement ring," he uttered, rather obviously. He had passed it to her on the evening of their own engagement, as they sat in a precious moment alone in the unusually quiet servants' hall, before they dreamed of their shared hopes for an idyllic future.

She nodded, her gaze somewhat hazy as she met it with his own again.

"I keep it round my neck, underneath my uniform," she went on, letting him in on what felt like an incredibly momentous secret. With the fingers of her other hand she toyed with the ring, twirling it about a couple of times before settling her finger over the modest jewel in its middle. "I'll take it off the chain at night, and wear it where it should be when I go to bed."

The confession affected him so, a great warmth spreading from the centre of his chest, that he could not resist brushing his fingers over hers. She sighed when he traced the curve of her palm, life and heart lines – _his mother always paid such attention to those_ – and giggled softly as he placed a kiss just below where the ring rested.

By God, if it was the last thing he did, he would obtain this divorce from Vera's unwilling hands and marry Anna the very next day, the next minute if it were possible. She didn't deserve to be kept waiting any longer.

"Gwen asks after you."

He smiled at the mention of their former colleague, Anna's good friend. He was glad they were still in touch.

"How is she?"

"Very well, in the scheme of things. She doesn't write as often as she did when she first left, but we're all so busy." Her expression turned slightly wistful, but soon brightened as she straightened her back against the chair. "She's in local government now. It sounds like there's been a bit of upheaval, of course, what with most of the men being away. She's doing a lot for families, seeing that they have the right provisions, and helping to support the women who have started to work in absence of their husbands."

"Lady Sybil would be proud."

And he could see quite clearly that she was too. She always took such delight in the achievements of those dear to her, and it made him glow with pride in turn.

The sunshine of her smile clouded over a little. "She has a beau, he was called up at the end of last year. He's stationed in Belgium. She sounds cheery enough but I can read it, in little phrases here and there."

There was little in the way of comfort to offer. It was the reality of the situation, true for so many but made all the worse when it hit close to home.

"Perhaps it's selfish of me, but when I pray for everyone out there I also thank God that he spared me all of that worry. I would be so sick with it, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

She fiddled with the ring at once so unfamiliar and which brought back a flood of memories for him, the clashing of the distinct times and thoughts of what might have been if he had been whole and able making him shiver.

The sorrow that he traced in her eyes – _the sorrow that made him despise himself for all the mistakes and misdemeanours he had made before life's path brought him to her, his saviour and redemption_ – was receding, replaced by the love he was now able to accept deserved to be given to him.

"For all of our troubles, I wouldn't trade places with anyone else. I'm not afraid of _her_ ," her tone was resolute, which gave him more heart than the promise of any solicitor's agreements, "I know that whatever you say that she'll get worn down in the end. But if you were away, and I couldn't be sure from one minute to the next whether you were safe, then I would go to pieces." Her hand reached over the table to his once more, covering it with softness before clinging on tight. "The thought of being without you makes me more frightened than anything."

He felt the weight of her fear, the phantom of it pressing down upon him and making it hard for him to breathe for a moment or two. Fifteen months they had spent apart and he would do all he could to endeavour that such a time should never come to pass again.

Her smile was rather sheepish. "I suppose I shouldn't be so glad of your injury."

"It has its advantages," he replied cheekily, placing his free hand between the thigh and knee. "It's one of the few times that I've been supremely glad of it."

He had been glad that it had driven Vera away, the idea that she might need to tend to him for the rest of his life enough to repulse her. It was funny, he supposed; he had gone to fight the Boers so that he could get away from Vera and what was a curse had turned into his best blessing, even if it had taken some years to come to fruition.

Talk of war stoked appetite, strangely. They ate their sandwiches with conversation shared in between, John feeling comfortable enough to make remark on their surroundings and suggesting that they may hope for something rather more modest for their own future. Smart enough that the Crawleys – most likely Lady Mary – could pay a visit, though what the Dowager would make of that nobody could possibly say, but most importantly cosy and accommodating to feel like home for some good time. It wasn't only the selection of elegantly-crafted cakes that made Anna beam so beautifully, her sweet-tooth being so well satisfied that she let him have all that she was unable to finish.

It was with a little regret that he fished his pocket-watch out and they came to the mutual conclusion that it was best that they were on their way, if they were ever to get back to the Abbey with adequate time to spare before dinner. No doubt the dastardly duo would have something to say about them both being away, even if it was just through pointed glances across the hall, but Anna shrugged and said they could _'stick it up their jumpers'_ – and he could think of no better course of action.

They walked hand-in-hand through the smaller hotel's lobby, John quietly bursting with happiness that they were able to do so. Once they were outside they would need to put the facade back into place, though they still had the bus ride back into Downton to revel in closeness.

As they were about to depart they noticed a young woman looking rather flustered, bags at her feet and an infant wriggling in her arms. She looked about her, assessing her situation helplessly, and despite time being tight both of them felt it was their obligation to do something to help, no matter how small.

"Do you need a hand?" John asked softly, approaching the woman with care.

Her eyes, and that of the child's, looked towards them both, relief and gratitude visible in the woman's demeanour.

"I've left one of my suitcases upstairs in the room. I should hope it's not too late, I've already checked out and we need to be on our way to catch a bus in the next half hour."

"I can't see that they'd get rid of anything," Anna interjected, "although it might take a while to find if they've put it in lost luggage."

"It's my own silly fault," the woman sighed, "I swear I don't know whether I'm coming or going most of the time these days."

The child did not share its mother's tension, all gummy smiles and brandishing a small toy in its chubby-fisted grasp. To be so carefree was a true pleasure, and the little one revelled in it.

"I can go up and retrieve it, if you give me the number."

"Oh, that would –" Her gaze was drawn downwards, taking in the sight of the cane in his hand. "That's very kind of you, but I couldn't ask it."

John smiled as he accepted the decision that had been made. He realised that the stranger wasn't being unkind – if anything she believed that she was doing him a service in graciously not asking a man of his reduced ability to exert himself.

The child squealed in its mother's arms, launching the soft toy into the air.

"Bobby!" the woman called, her tone lightly admonishing. "Be careful. You nearly hit the poor lady."

"No harm done," Anna smiled, reaching down to pick up what was now recognisable as a small rabbit, which had landed square at her feet.

She waved the toy in her hand, smiling as little Bobby giggled and held both arms out, trying to take it back but not being able to reach quite far enough.

"You wouldn't mind..." the woman began, her attention turned toward Anna, "could I leave him with you while I go upstairs? It won't take me a minute."

"Of course – "

Anna barely had time to reply before the child was passed into her arms, his legs anchoring around her waist and his smile wide as he gazed up curiously at her.

"Well, you're a happy one, aren't you?" Anna cooed, breaking into a laugh as the boy hoisted himself up further. They had both assumed that he was reaching for his bunny, which was still in Anna's hand, but instead he took fascination with the flower pinned at the side of her hat and attempted to pull the brim down for closer inspection.

Anna proceeded to play a game of peek-a-boo with the child, both of them laughing gleefully and almost unaware of the world around them. The amusement would have provided joy to anyone who happened to be passing, but John felt something deeper as he watched, the sight seeming so _real_ that it pulled fiercely at the strings of his heart.

It was all too easy for him to get lost for some minutes, a glimpse of the future that they had both talked about revealing itself to his eyes. He hoped he had not been hasty in his promises; it was not even the next step on the road. But on this afternoon he found that he had little dispensation for fretting and fussing. Perhaps it was the change of scenery, providing him in turn with a changed perspective. There was some distance to go, he did not deny that, but this was a significant marker – one which he was now able to envisage without only dreaming of the picture. It was in their future, and for that reason he was able to look forward, when so much of his life thus far had been spent in gazing back.

They were at the bus stop with a few minutes to spare, reassured by their doing a good deed and wondering what excuses they could give when they would both have to refuse a hefty slice of Mrs Patmore's Victoria sponge later on. The angle of the late afternoon sun caused Anna to squint, despite the cover of her hat.

"It's been a lovely afternoon. We should go back there again."

"The chocolate cake is certainly worth travelling for," he agreed.

She smiled up at him, more than in acquiescence at the quality of the food at the hotel. He had not imagined the 'date' to be quite so momentous when he had suggested it, and though neither spoke of it they both felt the importance and change in feeling. It certainly put a spring in his step when they descended from their carriage, and a happy warmth in his heart which he carried with him to his quarters that night.

Before he went to sleep, in the peaceful silence that accompanied the dark, he recalled the words they had agreed upon before they had arrived back as _Anna Smith_ and _John Bates_ respectively.

" _I do hope that there will be other dates, Mr Bates." She slipped back into her everyday persona with absolute ease, though the smile that she had worn in their time away remained firm upon her face. "If I may say, it's been a long time in coming."_

 _He laughed, his eyes lowering as her hand lifted, and he placed another kiss upon it._

" _Well then, there are quite a few owed to you," he left the imprint of a smile against her skin, "so I don't imagine that should be a problem."_

* * *

 **A/N: Ah, I always love returning to S2. I was trying to work out when Gwen would have got together with her John Harding, given the information in 6.4, and I don't think it's too unreasonable to imagine that they would have started courting during the war (if we imagine that Gwen moved from being a secretary at the telephone company fairly quickly) and that he also would have been posted away.**

 **I have termed this 'Chapter 1' as I would like to write more for this in future... I'm a bit reluctant to put a time stamp on any updates because of my ongoing WIPs, but watch this space.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Nearly a year later, I'm back with this fic! It felt like Valentine's was an appropriate time for an update and luckily enough, inspiration struck.**

 **Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 2

Amongst other things, Anna Bates prided herself on being good at her job. She had known very little other than working diligently for most of her life and, aside from the unpleasantness of being roused from sleep at an hour when nobody aside from the birds were awake, had no real complaints. The Crawleys were a most generous family – their kindness specifically affecting her personally in the darkest of her hours, extending beyond what was justified – and she was well aware that they were all in a fortunate position to be serving in this particular household.

Lady Mary might have come off intimidating and somewhat callous to outsiders, but Anna knew that it all came down to trust. She had her _inner circle_ and those that were allowed inside were treated to the warmest and most regarding parts of her nature. Anna was happy to serve the eldest of the Crawley daughters and couldn't have imagined devoting so much of her time on any other of her social superiors, especially not since she had been promoted to lady's maid.

With the role came certain benefits but also greater responsibilities. It wasn't as though she hadn't prepared for the changes, and most of the time it was as if not much had really shifted. Lady Mary had certain requests now that she was a married woman and, being the same, Anna shrugged them off, retaining only a natural hint of embarrassment. She had proved quite a time ago that she was close as possible to being the soul of discretion and very little fazed her. It was not of her concern, she would always tell herself; she had a job to do and she would always strive to do it to the best of her abilities. Some things might make her pause and certainly cause her to sigh, but in the next moment a calm smile would find its way back onto her countenance, the words her mother used to say ringing in her head.

 _There's a lot we don't want to do in life, but we've got to buckle our boots and wade through the muck as it's the only way we'll end up digging for gold._

Yet as much as she was a good servant, she was only human too. God knows that she didn't crave after gold; her riches came in far more simpler forms, but it was made all the more disappointing when the demands of others caused her uncomplicated comforts to be denied.

 _The look on Lady Mary's face as she turned from her mirror was halfway between confusion and undisguised amusement, which irritated Anna, though she was doing her utmost not to let any of it show through on her own expression._

" _Oh Anna, don't look so downhearted. It's not as though I'm planning an expedition to Timbuktu."_

" _Sorry, m'lady," she said, though she felt rather aggrieved for having to apologise. Her smile became more exaggerated. "It seems unusual to want to go to London at this time of year. You always say that it's greyer and rains even more than it does up here. Surely you couldn't spend a lot of time out of doors?"_

 _Not to mention that this trip had come completely unannounced; she had told her not five minutes ago of the plans, and said that she wished for train tickets to be purchased for the coming Wednesday, only three days away._

 _Lady Mary shifted on her seat, believing her expression to be hidden from her maid as she rubbed the rose-scented cream between her fingers and over her hands. The mirror was for the best part in Anna's line of vision and she could quite easily glimpse the smile that had weaved onto her mistress's lips, seeming particular and secretive in its quality, even to her confiding eyes._

" _There's a lot to be said for a change of scenery," Lady Mary replied, casting her head back upwards. "I'm rather tired of London in the summer months. And I'm certain that I can handle a couple of downpours."_

" _Well, if you're sure," Anna uttered, not wishing to sound too dismissive or doubting. She couldn't quite imagine that her mistress would be quite as carefree when her hat, coat and shoes became sodden within minutes of leaving the train. "I'll make sure that I pack more than the one umbrella, just in case."_

 _She busied herself with returning the nightclothes to the wardrobe as Lady Mary continued to sit in front of the mirror, suppressing a sigh as she looked up to the suitcases that sat high above. She was a light traveller, not requiring a change of dress so long as she was able to press her uniform each morning. Lady Mary, however, would require at least two changes per day, perhaps a third given the likely inclement weather of late February and the opportunity to go out of an evening. Of course it was the case that London had more attractions than Yorkshire, and Lady Mary was one to take advantage of the fact._

 _Her work would be cut out for her over the next couple of days and into the nights, indeed._

" _I...I hope I don't sound...impertinent, m'lady," she stumbled over her words, pulling herself up short before she fastened the clasp upon the pendant adorning Lady Mary's neck._

 _The dark and curious eyes that met her own in the mirror's reflection urged her to go on with what she had intended to say._

" _But I just thought...do you really need me to come with you, if it's only going to be a couple of days that you'll be away? I imagine that Mr Crawley would be happy to assist you."_

 _Lady Mary's eyebrows rose upwards, her head quirking on an angle._

" _If it were up to Mr Crawley, I doubt that I would ever be dressed at all."_

 _Anna's gaze dropped to the floor and she hid her open mouth with the head of the hairbrush, not stopping the light burst of laughter from leaving her._

" _I haven't shocked you, have I, Anna?"_

" _Not at all, m'lady." She carried on with the task at hand, casting the brush through Lady Mary's tresses with a blush still in her cheeks. It was one thing thinking about her own marital activities, which she was not in the least ashamed of, but to bring to mind someone else's – not least her employer's – was awfully intrusive. "It makes perfect sense. It was wrong of me to suggest..."_

 _She spent longer than usual fixing her mistress's hair into place, keeping a hold of her tongue whilst doing so. She stepped back on her heels when the job was finished, regarding Lady Mary as she turned her head from side to side, her eyes showing no obvious signs of disapproval. After a few moments of silent observation, her lips curved into a smile._

" _Don't worry, Anna," Lady Mary concluded the slight awkward silence that had descended, "I promise that I won't keep you away from Bates for too long at all."_

It was rather silly of her, this need to keep her husband so close, especially given that it had been months and not days or weeks since he had come home and back to her. Before then they were lucky to have so much as minutes to spend in the company of one another for a fortnight at a time, as well as a stony-faced guard keeping watch from a corner. Then again she didn't accept that it was too much to ask and she certainly would not apologise for the fact, not when it was the case that they never should have spent a moment apart in the first place. All those months that felt like tortured lifetimes, the both of them suffering when there had been no need for it.

Since they had moved into the cottage they had not been one night away from one another. Perhaps she was being rather naive in hoping that they could retain that record for as long as possible, if not for the rest of their lives. At the very least she wanted to see to it that the run would be unbroken for the exact amount of time that they had been separated, if not double that.

Twenty four hours had passed since Lady Mary announced her intentions, and her mood had not brightened in respect of it in the slightest. After the morning's dressing was done she came back to the servants' hall for a quick cup of tea, knowing that she had a full day of packing ahead of her. She slumped into her seat, the sigh that left her unbidden reverberating against the walls.

"Cheer up," a sour voice spoke from the opposite side of the table, looking up from the mending that was spread out before her, "it might never happen."

"I thought it already had," the passing figure of Thomas muttered, taking delight in doing so.

Miss O'Brien cast a momentary glance at the under-butler before making her excuses, gathering up the garment she was working on and departing. It was a very strange business; the pair that had once been as thick as thieves didn't seem to have so much as more than a few words to say to one another and apparently couldn't bear to be in the same room longer than was necessary. Trying to figure out the breakdown in communication was more effort than she wanted to waste on either of them; the one thing that she knew for certain was that it would be an easier time to have a sworn enemy than to be firm friends with either of them.

She lowered her head into her cup, leaning in to where John sat to the right of her, the rest of the hall's occupants fading from her periphery.

"I just don't see why she's going now," she sighed, keeping her voice low enough that it would only be caught by him. "She's so set on it, and I know now that she's only going to be miserable once she gets there."

"Lady Mary, quite contrary," he replied, smirking as he did so. The little glimmer in his eyes did lift her spirits, but also reminded her precisely why she was feeling so downcast. "I thought you liked London."

"I do. I'd rather have a little more notice about taking a trip there, instead of running around like a headless chicken trying to get everything ready in time."

She smiled sincerely towards him, though it still took a bit of effort. Her eyes as they looked into his own said everything she needed to say about the true reason why she did not wish to be part of the impromptu travelling party.

He returned her wistful look with understanding, giving her a reassuring smile that told her he reciprocated her feelings, even if he was more resigned to the situation than she was.

His hand rested softly upon her knee for a couple of moments, and even though it was well obscured from sight the gasp that hitched in her throat was nearly enough to give them away.

"It'll be an adventure," he said soothingly, his way of encouraging her not to miss him even though she would for every moment.

She did her best to smile, finding it easier to do so when he was in front of her.

"I trust that you're looking forward to going to the smoke, Mr Molesley?"

Molesley looked rather perplexed as he raised his head from the newspaper to reply to John's question but made the connection quickly afterwards.

"Oh yes, Mr Bates, very much so. I'm pleased when Mr Crawley invites me anywhere, but especially somewhere with as much going on as London."

His enthusiasm couldn't have been more at odds with the deflated feeling she was experiencing, and she suspected quite strongly that her husband knew precisely that.

"Would you believe, I've noticed just here that there's a very interesting exhibition about the history of machinery in one of the museums. Hopefully I'll manage to make it along." He looked hopefully, if somewhat cautiously, from John towards Anna. "I wonder if you might like to join me, Mrs Bates? Purely for your own interests, of course."

She could feel John's eyes upon her as he moved his book further upwards to hide the smirk burgeoning upon his face, already feeling herself fill with longing. She wanted to see the sights of London with her husband, otherwise she would do so alone.

"That would be very nice, Mr Molesley," she said, always intending to be polite, "if Lady Mary lets me get away, of course."

* * *

Her day had both passed quickly and been arduously tiring. The way Lady Mary was going about this trip it was as if she intended it to be a second honeymoon, the preparations more intense than they had been for France. Perhaps everything seemed so much more prolonged to her because there were distractions available now which she had only dreamt of and longed for back then, primarily the all-too tempting thought of John being but a few rooms away.

She had been pleased to have everything packed securely with a bit of time to spare before the servants had their dinner, until Lady Mary's bell rang earlier than was usual. She might have surmised before making the trip upstairs and the expression on her mistress's face – only a touch reproachful – said it all. In the space of a few hours she had changed her mind about two of the outfits that had been carefully pressed and folded into her luggage and wanted advice on replacements, as there were a few choices she couldn't settle on. Of course, a change in outfits would also require appropriate hats to match, and there were a pair of wine-coloured gloves that she was _sure she hadn't got rid of_ but was unable to recall where she had last placed them. Anyway, they were absolutely essential and she simply couldn't leave Yorkshire without them in her possession.

It was gone ten o'clock when she had finished rearranging the clothes in their cases, wiping the perspiration from her brow. The search for the gloves would need to wait until the morning. Hopefully that would be the last of it but she was wise enough to anticipate yet more alterations in Lady Mary's whims.

She allowed herself to be annoyed for a few minutes longer and then changed her mindset, thinking better of it. There would be another day and two whole nights with her husband before she was called away and she was determined not to waste another moment being downcast and disgruntled. The weeks went by so swiftly – it wasn't all that long ago that they had been singing carols and rejoicing great tidings of comfort and joy – and she thought of this time next week, when London would be nothing other than a quickly-fading memory.

John was waiting patiently for her and she muttered her apologies as she skittered over the hard floor. His smile was loving and the skim of his hands soothing; she couldn't refrain from issuing a contented sigh as the broad palms swept between her shoulder-blades, smoothing her coat into place. _It's bitter out there,_ he informed her, his reasoning for bundling a scarf around her, causing her to laugh as her face was nearly completely covered by the garment. Her eyes glimmered as he tapped her lightly on the nose, her genuine smile hidden from his view for the time being, and indeed until they found themselves back at home, the night being so pitch that they could only make out one another's outlines against the faint glimmer of moonlight, the sense of touch being the superior at such an hour.

She didn't like letting go of him merely so they could make it through the door, unlinking her arm from his reluctantly. Heaven help her when she would have to relinquish him for longer, twining the fingers of her hands together as she sat in the car that rolled gradually away from the house, the print of his palm against hers all she would have to sustain her.

The fire felt close to heavenly near her feet in their stockings, the bulk of John's frame squeezed in happily besides hers. The rickety settee was far too small for the both of them yet she didn't have the inclination to get rid of it, and neither would she allow him to reside in the armchair that was more suitable for his body, at least not for the time being.

"You've had that look on your face all night," she commented plainly, caught by the embers that were dancing within his eyes, far more enticing than those that swirled in the grate.

"What look?" he replied, only exaggerating the smirk that lay upon his lips.

She nudged him lightly with her elbow, shaking her head as she couldn't take her eyes away from him.

"I have some good news."

"That Lady Mary has changed her mind about going to London at all?"

His mouth quirked, the flame in his gaze quietly burning. "Rather that His Lordship will be taking a trip, too."

For a moment or two she was rather puzzled, failing to make the connection until John expanded.

"An impromptu meeting, it seems, but one which it appears that he cannot miss. He didn't say that much, only that he must be at Westminster for noon on Wednesday."

"This Wednesday?"

He nodded in reply to her question.

"And...he requires you to go with him?" She felt rather foolish, but needed to ascertain the matter to prevent herself from jumping to rash and hopeful conclusions.

"I imagine that it will be an overnight stay at most," he added, a tinge of regret in his tone.

One night was more than she had expected or even dreamt.

"Why didn't you tell me so sooner?" The smile grew yet wider upon her lips despite her question of rebuke, the feeling of delight so strong that it overtook her whole being, her legs restless and the blood rushing quick in her veins.

She reached out to touch him in order to steady herself, one hand resting at an angle upon the curve of his jaw and beneath his unbuttoned collar.

"As much as I'd have welcomed you dragging me into a closet, I thought it best to save the surprise until we were back under our own roof."

She tutted once, temporarily removing her other hand from where it lay upon the solidity of his chest, causing his eyes to flash in disappointment.

"It's very wicked to keep things from your wife, Mr Bates," she trilled, watching keenly as his gaze dipped from her own to the pout of her lips, the curve of her neck, "especially when she has been in such a state of agitation."

The intent nature of his stare upon her was wearing thin; she craved his touch upon her, felt herself beginning to waver.

"I apologise unreservedly, my love." His voice had lowered to a rasp which teased down the length of her spine, making her shiver at just the sound. He laid the tips of his fingers gently upon her waist, his eyes flicking to hers. "Whatever can I do to plead your forgiveness?"

A twinkle of a smile was born in the hue of her irises and the corner of her mouth simultaneously, and she seized hold of his hand as she got to her feet, feeling power and confidence surge within her as she looked down at him, such a switch in their heights being rare.

She swirled her fingers in the centre of his palm, quieting a giggle at the murmuring she could hear coming from his throat.

"I have one or two things in mind," she uttered, playing the role of coquette quite well, if she did think so herself. His dark eyes seared to the very soul of her. "But they require your presence upstairs."

* * *

The prediction of rain in London on a February day had not been an outlandish one, but what was more refreshing was Lady Mary's reaction to it. Instead of scowling as fat drops splashed down upon her umbrella and marked her shoes she wore a serene smile instead, sharing glances with Mr Crawley who stayed close by her side. Looking at the pair of them, inseparable as they walked matching step for step, it was hard to believe that they had taken so long in becoming husband and wife.

Anna and John were behind them in their own synchronised striding, refraining from holding hands or linking arms whilst in the company of their employers. Lord Grantham was at the head of their procession and Mr Molesley tailed the line, likely regretting the decision to carry a couple of Lady Mary's bags as well as Mr Crawley's and his own. The other valet had sat with Anna and John in the second class carriage on the train down, regaling them with conversation on a wide range of topics. Although she would have liked some time to herself with her husband Anna smiled along as Mr Molesley spoke animatedly, conversing well and taking him somewhat by surprise with her depth of knowledge on one or two of the subjects. She felt rather sorry and worried that he would feel quite out of it on this trip, even if the absent Miss O'Brien was far from being an amenable travelling companion.

Perhaps there was still time for John to cancel the reservation he had made. Then again Lady Painswick did have a couple of servants of her own, so it wasn't as though Mr Molesley would be completely alone.

They came to a sudden halt when Mr Crawley stopped in front of Lady Mary, smiling devotedly at her. Anna clutched onto John's arm for the briefest of moments, still expecting them all to topple over like dominoes for a second or two.

"I thought I might get some chocolate before we leave the station." A little confectionery stand on wheels stood outside, Mr Crawley's fair head tipping in its direction. "Would you like something, my darling?"

"Surprise me," was Lady Mary's characteristic response, though her tone was lighter, sounding as if she was carrying a smile whilst she spoke.

The bright look in Mr Crawley's eyes as he regarded her told that she was, indeed.

"Would anyone else care for anything?" he asked, more than perfunctory politeness in his question. "Anna?"

She dipped her chin to her chest, half in answer. "Thank you, Mr Crawley, but I'm quite well."

"Sweet enough as you are," John leant down to whisper in the shell of her ear, his hand brushing lightly at the small of her back. She could feel the heat of the blush upon her cheeks, and was grateful for the wider brim of her hat and the crowds that were milling around them on the pavement.

Mr Molesley coughed from behind her back, causing her shoulders to jump just a little.

"Um, I wouldn't mind some chocolate brazils, if that's alright with you, Sir? They're very hard to come by in Yorkshire."

"Of course, Molesley. What's say I get two bags; one for the journey home too."

He gave a small laugh of unconfined joy. "That's awfully kind of you, Sir. Treat yourself to one, on me!"

Anna turned her head to offer a smile to Mr Molesley, who was positively beaming at the prospect of as many chocolate brazils as he could wish for. _Every sock has its shoe_ , her mother said, and she hoped that Mr Molesley would find his one day soon.

The party drove in two cars to Belgrave Square, Anna and John going along to ensure that Lady Mary and His Lordship would be suitably settled. It took less time to unload than it did to pack but there was the matter of changing out of the travelling clothes, which Lady Mary would almost certainly wish to do as soon as they got to their lodgings.

Lady Painswick was there to greet them on arrival, not seeming too put out by the extended party but not deigning to linger for too long before retreating back to the drawing room.

"Are you quite sure about the hotel, Bates?" Lord Grantham asked, his expression one of great concern as they stood gathered in the entry hall. "It's not as big as Grantham House here, granted, but we won't be like sardines. There's more than enough room for you both."

"We're sure, m'lord. We do appreciate you thinking of us."

Anna fought desperately to keep the smile from emerging onto her face at her husband's assurance. She recalled the fluttering she felt deep in her chest when he put forth the suggestion of staying at a hotel for the night they would both be in the city, feeling it rising up again. They had been awfully lucky in acquiring a room at such short notice.

It was a treat, and she didn't argue with him when he said that they deserved it.

His Lordship's brow remained knotted. "I'm rather uneasy about you paying to stay somewhere when there's a roof here for nothing..."

"Really, Papa," Lady Mary cut in, "single beds aren't suitable, and Anna and Bates are hardly newlyweds."

Anna diverted her gaze from the visibly flustered Lord Grantham, her cheeks glowing as she turned a thankful smile towards Lady Mary. It was nice to have her acknowledge that they had been married for nearly two years, when it seemed like less time than that to most people.

"It's only a ten minute walk," John added, "we can be here as late and as early as you need us, m'lord."

Lord Grantham waved a hand in the air. "No need to fret. We can rub by for a little while. In fact, I'll head up now so that I don't keep you any longer."

Anna suspected that His Lordship was keen to get away mainly so that he wouldn't feel like such a gooseberry caught between two couples, as Molesley had already ascended to dispose of the luggage. Lady Mary and Mr Crawley soon followed, sharing their own secret conversation.

Left alone for the first time since they had arrived at the Abbey early that morning, they smiled wide at each other. It was easy to forget sometimes that they weren't at home whenever it was just the two of them, and they lingered for a few moments, lost in one another's gaze.

A million different thoughts ran through her head; already she found herself eager to explore.

"How long do you think you'll be?"

She shivered as John's voice nestled in her ear, his breath a warm caress against her cheek.

"An hour at most. Lady Mary's already favourable, so it could be more like forty five minutes. If we're lucky."

She smiled at the hopeful look stoking in his eyes, her breath catching as he brushed his fingers over the hand hanging at her side.

"I'll let you get a head start," he uttered, tone laced with just as much anticipation as she was feeling, "and I'll meet you down here soon."

* * *

She had only ever stayed at an inn twice before, and neither had been in happy circumstances. Perhaps those past experiences coloured the present too favourably but there was no question that stopping over for the night in a hotel in London really was quite different. The window looked out onto a little patch of parkland mirrored on either side by elegant townhouses with flower-boxes lining their own balconies. Inside, it was modest and with just enough space to fit everything but it was beautifully decorated. A home from home, be it just the one room.

They made the most of being on their own time, taking tea in the rather bustling restaurant downstairs – on this occasion using their true married names in the table reservation. The rain held off along for them to stroll in Hyde Park and after a while spent there they jumped a bus up to Westminster. The bright red carriages were distinct from those they were better used to, riding to Ripon or Thirsk, and the passengers were packed in even tighter. It didn't matter a jot to her; she liked John being pressed to her while she alternated her glances out of the window to her side and then back to him and his perpetually smiling face.

If anyone they knew were to see _Mr Bates_ at this very moment in time they may have been very curious and more than a touch perplexed at his gleeful expression.

"I asked His Lordship if he wouldn't mind being dressed for the evening a bit earlier tonight," he said when they were back in their room, adoring eyes regarding her as she sat in the chair at the dresser, rubbing the arch of one foot through her stockings.

Her gaze raised to ask him why but he had already answered her question, holding two tickets in his hand and chuckling when he noted the shift in her expression.

She had long held hopes of seeing a show on one of her many trips to London. Just the once would do her perfectly fine, to say that she had experienced it. It had to be more special than going to the pictures and watching a projection; seeing and smelling and hearing everything right as it happened in the moment, being part of the cheering crowd herself and smiling appreciatively at the performers as they gave their all.

"Oh, John," she exclaimed, taking one of the tickets as he readily offered it to her. "With everything else, this must have cost you..."

"I wanted to treat you," he cut in before she could fret for longer, running his fingers over the back of her hand which held the ticket as though it were a nugget of gold. "They're not the best seats in the house, but you've never said that you're put off by heights."

"No," she laughed, her eyes glimmering.

With a new and different preoccupation she glanced from the gaze of her husband down to the dress she was wearing, which was perfectly suitable for flitting around in the daytime but could not be classed in any way as fine evening wear and definitely too shabby for a night at the theatre.

"I've only brought one other dress with me, and I'm not sure there'll be enough time to change."

The time was nearing on quarter to six, meaning that they would need to be at Grantham House as the hour came and head into the West End straight afterwards if they wanted to be in their seats amply.

"What are you smiling at, Mr Bates?"

He chuckled again at her genuinely inquisitive tone.

"They don't expect us to be in our uniforms, so that saves us a little." He stepped in closer to her, meaning that there was hardly any air between their bodies, a hand brushing lightly against the collar of her dress and causing a shiver to careen down her spine.

She caught sight of the smirk pulling at his lips as his eyes lingered upon the slope of her neck.

"Besides, you look exquisite as it is."

She scoffed loudly, shaking her head. "Away with you, _exquisite_."

Breath stood in place of words, his palm rising to cup the curve of her face as it rose up to her cheek, glowing pink from the intentness of his gaze.

"I couldn't think of a more fitting word to describe you, Anna May Bates," he said after a while of staying reverently silent, his eyes carrying a soft and rich light as her face broke into an unrestrained grin. It was still rather surreal to hear her changed name spoken back to her, her greatest dream being confirmed as true.

The crinkles that framed both of his eyes embedded themselves deeper, showing the extent of the joy he revelled in too. She had the urge to reach up and trace them, but he circled her wrists before she could take the chance.

"I suppose we had better get there early," he reasoned, sounding quite serious, "else they'll mistake you for the star attraction of the night and whisk you away."

Stepping inside the theatre was like entering into another world for a couple of hours, one which held nothing other than delight and wonder. All worries she had about feeling out of place faded away once they were in their seats, surrounded by hundreds of other people who were very much like them, and once the curtain rose and the lights dimmed she forgot that anything else existed, held in captivation by the stage and its velvet backdrop.

The variety show meant that each performance was a wonderful surprise and the time simply flew by as one act followed another. There were magic tricks, comedy skits, troupes of dancers whom had her especially enthralled. Inbetween all of that there was music. Joyful tunes exalting all that there was to praise about life, raising the roof near off with the clapping and cheering that accompanied, followed by sorrowful laments which clasped hands to hearts and brought tears to thousands of eyes.

Her favourite song of the night was one which lay somewhere halfway between the two moods, a ditty that began softly and sung by a chanteuse with a voice like a nightingale. The romance of the melody could not be denied and Anna listened intently to the words while the spotlight shone upon the female performer, her silk dress shimmering against the light. Her voice rose, becoming steadily more powerful as the song built to its crescendo.

 _Darling, I wonder whether you know  
How much I love you so  
In the silence my longing heart calls  
Through the light of the sun and as the deepest dark falls_

A faint ache resided in her chest, the memory of such painful times thankfully passed by. Her hand moved across from where it had rested in her lap and lifted to curl around John's fingers, the exhilaration that came from being able to reach out and touch her husband holding such power over her.

She turned her head in the shadows, her eyes blinking back tears of pure happiness as he encased her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Even in the dimness there was no mistaking the smile that stretched upon his face.

 _When you hear its cry it will tell all you need to know  
That, my darling, I love you, love you so_

They made the decision between them to walk back, taking a detour to stroll beside the riverbank, the flow of people steady even given the night hour. The air didn't seem as cold as a few hours previously, somewhat peculiarly, so they stood for a while looking out upon the Thames and the boats that bobbed along. Their hands had remained clasped since leaving the theatre, and Anna was unspeakably happy at the simple but incredibly meaningful act of holding hands with her husband in public. It was something she hadn't done nearly enough of, even if she used every chance that came her way in order to make up for lost time.

It was only now that the length of the day had caught up with her; they'd been up earlier than usual and had packed so much into their time together. Her eyes blinked heavily up towards the misty sky, stars disguised behind the clouds, as her head rested against his arm.

"I remember looking out on the Seine," she uttered softly, her fingers pressing tightly in the spaces between his. "It was the day time, of course. A couple passed me by, they must have noticed how I was staring out and standing in the same spot for too long. The man said "it's beautiful, isn't it?" and I said "yes," but I wasn't really paying attention. I didn't want to seem impolite."

She lifted her head up to find John smiling down at her, a funny mixture of utter joy and faded sorrow dancing round within her soul.

"It _was_ beautiful, but it was my own fault...I was so stubborn, I wanted to be blind."

An unhappy sigh left her, travelled into the mist of the night.

With a gentle hand upon her back John lifted her spirits.

"I'd like to go back one day and enjoy it properly, just so I hadn't wasted my one chance of being there, amongst everything."

He had told her to go and make memories for the both of them, but doing anything worth remembering without him – anything that wasn't benefitting his case whilst he languished – was an unendurable feat.

Thankfully he brushed away her confession that life had not been as rosy as she had once made out, turning her to him with both hands upon her arms.

"We should run away, Mrs Bates," he said, the smirk lighting his features. "Anywhere you want to go, anything you want I shall do my very best to give it to you. The moon on a stick, if that be your wish."

She cast a glance towards the moon, full and shining in the sky above, and laughed, feeling so much more carefree.

"I think I can do perfectly well with just looking at it." She smiled at him, lifting her arms up and under so they crept beneath his coat. His eyebrows lifted in slight surprise at her action, causing another little giggle to escape from her mouth before she curved her frame in closer towards him. "I don't want for anything more than to be here."

He smiled down at her, drawing her nearer to the warmth of his frame. "For now, that is."

"For always," she returned with sincerity in her tone as well as on the expression that she wore with great pride.

She had no need to wish upon a cloaked star as he read her mind completely, tipping her chin upwards and bringing her mouth to his for a tender kiss.

The night provided a wonderful cover but it also reminded them of the fact that time was drawing on. They broke apart with soft smiles, reading one another's wishes word for word.

* * *

Even though she had changed clothes twice that very day it was a relief to be in her nightgown, feeling at ease. Similarly she had loosened her hair into a braid but given that she had washed there was little point in leaving it like that much longer.

She felt John's eyes keen upon her as she separated the strands, smiling openly at the devout attention he paid to her. Images of their wedding night came rushing back to her, the first time she had revealed herself in such a way. The heavenly manner in which his fingers combed through her hair, a telling precursor to all the other ways he would worship her throughout the blissful hours.

He placed the book he had lost interest in upon the nightstand, throwing back the bedcovers to allow her to climb in. The bed was a little bigger than the one at the cottage though the room made a strange illusion of its size.

"You smell nice," he uttered at her back.

"Getting rid of the smells of the city," she answered with a smile upon her face. "Lady Mary insisted that I lend some of her hand cream. And she said that I needn't have bothered coming back to Belgrave Square, as she can do quite well with Mr Crawley last thing at night."

John chuckled, his breath falling between her shoulder blades. "It's a shame the same thing can't be said for His Lordship. Although there are much harder jobs to be had."

She huffed her agreement, bringing the covers over both of them and lying upon her side.

"What time is your train tomorrow?"

"Let's not talk about that," he answered, an arm circling about her waist, fingertips lightly kneading against her.

"I'm just being practical," she reasoned, "Lady Mary doesn't need me at the house until eight o'clock."

"I'll go up at the same time. The train departs at ten, and His Lordship doesn't need much attention. Breakfast will be his main concern."

She leant against the pillow, her hand covering his where it rested just above her hip.

"She gave me express instruction to ring for a cab after dressing, to go to Harley Street."

"Hmmm," John pondered. "Will Mr Crawley be joining her?"

"Not that I'm aware. If there was something wrong then I'm sure he would...or perhaps not. You know what she's like; she takes after her grandmother in that respect, thinking she can deal with anything by pinning on a brave face."

She felt his grip tighten upon her, his hand running soothing circles over the fabric of her gown.

"I'm sure it's nothing bad. In all the years I've known her I've never seen her in such lively spirits. Though I will admit, you know her ways much better than I do."

"She's been like that ever since they wed. Save for that awful time..."

Though over half a year had passed since it was still difficult to think of the Crawley girls being a pair and not a trio, as they always should have been.

"Poor Mr Branson. I don't think there's a moment that goes by that my heart doesn't ache for him."

John gave agreement in silent supplication, drawing himself closer so that his chin rested upon her shoulder.

"At least he knew true love." He couldn't see the wistful smile upon her face as she thought of something she had once told Mrs Hughes. _One of the lucky ones_. "And he has a gift in young Miss Sybbie."

She smiled to think of the precious baby, a blessing to the whole household since Lady Sybil's passing.

"That leaves Lady Edith," she said, shifting onto her back, feeling slightly restless at the turn in conversation. "I don't think she's recovered from being left at the altar. And to be quite honest, I don't think Sir Strallan did the right thing."

"His Lordship would disagree with you."

"What does honour matter if you love someone?" She felt John's eyes upon her, daring to argue only for her sake, which she was still grateful for. "I suppose that it must have been stronger on her side, else I don't see why he should have run away if he felt just the same. So perhaps he did end up saving her the greater heartache."

As she mused, staring up at the ceiling, John raised onto his elbow, caressing the inside of her arm with the backs of his fingers.

"She'll find her happiness in the end."

A wide smile broke upon her face at the confidence in his tone. "You sound very certain."

"I speak from experience," he exclaimed, mirroring her beaming expression measure for measure. "If any man should have been deserted by happiness and true love in his life then, by all rights, that man would have been me. And yet I was blessed in abundance. So it stands to reason that every other being should find the same joy as I have."

The swirling feeling that so often resided in her stomach sparked to life once more. She lifted her arm towards him and he pulled her momentarily from her place upon the pillow, their mouths melding and caressing, allowing themselves to be much bolder now that they were in private.

She sighed in satisfaction, snuggling against his side, staring into the depths of his eyes as they lay next to each other as husband and wife should, every night of their lives.

"I am very glad that we don't have to sleep in separate beds."

A rasp of breath came from his throat as his eyes took on a darker shade. "So am I, my love. I lived for the very dream of lying with you like this every night we were apart."

Her breath caught as she thought of those agonising months, her hand reaching out to touch him to prove to herself that this wasn't all an illusion.

"John..."

He hushed her before she could continue, taking the hand that pressed against him and raising it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss against her skin.

"Throughout all that, I had your letters."

A delicious smirk curved his lips into a wondrous shape, and she felt the heat coursing up her body, making her blush furiously as she knew exactly what type of letters he was referring to. She had only wrote one or two, and they had been instigated by ones which he had sent her. She recalled shivering in a foreign bed, the sheets of paper at her side as she descended from a euphoric high.

"They kept me quite warm on cold nights, I have to say. But nothing compares to being with you." He lowered his head, laying his lips upon her neck – the collar of her nightgown exposing more of her skin to him. She gasped in delight as his mouth trailed over her, his body shifting to cover her. "Through all the days, I still wish for the nights the most."

She opened her eyes to find him smiling into her face, her hand reaching up to caress his cheek.

"So do I."

And the night that was to pass would be as wonderful as the day that had preceded it.

A time that she would always cherish.

* * *

 **A/N: The song from the variety show is one I completely fabricated (unless by some very strange coincidence it is an actual song).**

 **Towards the end I also referenced a recent fic called _The Garter_ by Banna-nannas in terms of the letters that Anna and John exchanged whilst he was in prison. If you haven't read it already then you definitely should.**


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